The Lion and the Rats
by TacticianZephine
Summary: Harry confronts the woman who betrayed Lord Voldemort, and shows her family a kindness unknown to them.


In the pale light of dawn, Harry wandered through the clusters and tangles of sleeping bodies, unable to sleep himself. Several things had occurred to him in the time since the battle had ended and the chaos of the aftermath had begun, many of which could be dealt with later, but as the Death Eaters were in the midst of apprehension, he couldn't wait to deal with one. The Aurors had arrived minutes ago.

Percy, Lee, Kingsley, and several others were guarding the Death Eaters who had been rounded up and confined in the Entrance hall, and it was there that Harry spotted the person he intended to speak with. He sidestepped through the crowd of Aurors, Order members, and Death Eaters struggling to be captured, toward three who hadn't been reached yet, and had huddled together beneath the remains of the Slytherin points hourglass.

"Come to see us off, then, Potter?" Draco Malfoy attempted to sneer, his voice hoarse and tired. His father looked up in a panic at the sound of Harry's name, the arm he'd wrapped around his wife seeming to tighten protectively, as did the fingers of the hand placed on his son's shoulder.

Harry could see both of them had been rather badly wounded, likely by his allies and their own alike. A bloodied, makeshift bandage had been tied around Lucius Malfoy's forearm, over the Dark Mark, and Draco's own Mark was surrounded by fresh bruising, exposed by the torn sleeve of his robes.

"I've come to speak with you," Harry replied clearly, pointing directly at Narcissa, who hadn't looked up from her own hands, twisting in her lap.

"... what business have you with me?"

"You lied to Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. I didn't think anyone could lie to Voldemort, but you managed to do it."

Narcissa did not raise her eyes. "Should you or your loved ones fail to comply with His wishes, you will be subjected to His choice of punishment. Some days, He feels merciful, and will kill you before you have the chance to fear for your life. Some days, you are the latest in a string of failure, and on those days, He is not as merciful. Have you ever felt the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, Harry Potter?"

"I have."

"Have you ever been cursed for so long that you claw at your own skin to make the burning cease? That it somehow relieves the pain to tear at your flesh until all you can see is blood? And then being expected to thank your tormentor for lifting the curse?" Her voice had risen to a frantic pitch, her eyes wide and glassy as if she was, in fact, reliving such torment, or the witnessing of it, in her own mind. Her breathing became shallow, ragged. "I've seen the Cruciatus Curse claim the sanity of its victims, seen my own son forced to perform it, been forced to perform it myself on those I love. Have you any idea what that is like? Answer me, Potter."

Harry could not.

"The Dark Lord believes that to punish the guilty-to truly punish the guilty-the innocent must suffer. In the absence of true innocence, those who 'call themselves allies, yet are too cowardly to take the Mark for themselves,' are the next best thing." She shook with emotions she desperately tried to restrain, squeezing her eyes shut. "So what are we left with, but to become guilty ourselves?"

Harry said nothing, his eyes trained on the shuddering woman.

"The Dark Lord would not have had time to torture me had He discovered that I had lied, so either He would have left it to my sister, whom I could have easily overpowered, or killed me. Had I told the truth, He would have killed me anyway. You do not believe any who called herself loyal to Him capable of it, Harry Potter, but a mother's love for her family is far more powerful than any loyalty to an outsider."

"There's three more over here!"

Harry glanced up as Dawlish, Savage, and Kingsley Shacklebolt approached the corner with another pair of Aurors he didn't know. "Takin' all three of 'em, Shacklebolt?" Dawlish grunted.

"Only two of 'em are Marked, she's an accessory. Take all three of 'em, keep 'em separate."

The Malfoys looked fearful, husband and wife pressing closer together and protectively wrapping a free arm each around their son. Harry could see Narcissa's shaking worsen.

Savage gripped Draco's wrist, pulling him away from his parents, and Harry remembered something Ron had once said, comparing Draco to a rat. Now here they all were, three rats in a trap.

Dawlish and one of the Aurors Harry didn't know went for Lucius next, pulling him up by the front of his robes and cursing as he struggled to remain upright. His injuries were that severe, it seemed. Narcissa had been seized by the other unknown Auror, and was the only one to put up any kind of fight, easily restrained by the large man.

Harry looked to Kingsley, then back to the struggling wraith of a woman. He had never thought of Narcissa Malfoy as her own individual, rather as an extension of her husband and son, but what she had said was undeniably true. Lily Potter had shielded her infant son from certain death at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Molly Weasley had challenged Bellatrix Lestrange, a known killer, to protect her daughter. Narcissa had risked not only her own life, but those of her husband and sister, to lie to Voldemort and search for her son.

"... Kingsley, let them go."

"What? Harry, do you know what the Malfoys have done?"

"I know that Lucius Malfoy and his son are rats, and would gladly give up information on their fellow Death Eaters to save their own skins. I also know that Narcissa Malfoy betrayed Lord Voldemort. Besides, they aren't much trouble wandless."

Kingsley blinked, looking at the woman.

"She lied to him, to reunite her family. Selfish, as expected of a Malfoy, but their loyalty was uncertain since Lucius was imprisoned."

The Aurors looked to each other, and Kingsley finally nodded. "Let 'em go."

Draco and Narcissa were released, and both ran immediately to Lucius, who had been let drop to the floor by his captors. Harry nodded to Kingsley, and then turned to re-enter the Great Hall.

"Potter."

He stopped, turning back around to face the one who'd called him. Draco was on his feet, closing the distance between them, and offered his hand once he came to a stop. Harry looked skeptical, but grasped his hand and shook it. He withdrew the wand which he had fought with, handing it back to its original owner. "Won't be needing this. Suppose you'd like it back."

Draco took the wand, twirling it in his fingers before closing them around the handle. "... thanks, Potter."


End file.
